


I Saw You in the Library

by RaspberrySwish



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Carm needs glasses, F/F, Farsighted Carmelita, He isn't even in this but I had to say it, Isa's been there for a few months already, Nero is horrible and I hate him, POV Third Person Limited, She's not redeemed, Still has a lot of issues and is a bully, a while before the Baudelaires show up, also before the library does the 10 minutes thing, and still has a few weeks to go, before the Baudelaires show up, its stretched out, the timeline is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberrySwish/pseuds/RaspberrySwish
Summary: Carmelita Spats hated orphans. Isadora Quagmire was an orphan. Therefore, Carmelita hated her. That's what she told herself. It's the truth. She hated orphans. And Isadora? She hated her the most. She had to. She hated her enough to follow her into the library, a place full of books and librarians, other things that Carmelita hated almost as much as her.
Relationships: Isadora Quagmire/Carmelita Spats, Olivia Caliban & Carmelita Spats
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	I Saw You in the Library

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place before the Baudelaires arrive at Prufrock, and uses a version of Carmelita Spats that has a lot of problems, not all of which are mentioned or addressed properly in this short story. This is written in third person, but Carmelita's thoughts and feelings still influence the text, none of which are shared by the author. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, and I really love thinking about the dynamics between Isadora and Carmelita, so I hope you enjoy reading! <3

Isadora Quagmire was an orphan. And Carmelita  _ hated _ orphans.

That’s what she reminded herself as she watched Isadora enter the library with her twin brother, a little black notebook in her hand.

She hated orphans. And Isadora Quagmire was the worst of them. 

So it made perfect sense for her to follow Isadora. She was an orphan. And Carmelita  _ hated _ orphans.

Especially book-loving, parents-died-in-a-fire-ing, cakesniffing, beautiful, orphans like her.

Did she really just say the last part? 

“I hate orphans,” Carmelita whispered. “Orphans are disgusting and useless and I hate them. They deserved everything they got.”

As she approached the entrance, a librarian stepped out of the shadows and blocked her way.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” she asked.

Carmelita sneered. It was Ms. Caliban, the crazy book lady.

“Let me through, you hag!” she spat.

Ms. Caliban gasped, taking a moment before steadying herself.

“You know full well that you’re not allowed in the library anymore, Carmelita,” she said. “Not since you pushed those students into the bookshelves.”

“Please, those cakesniffers deserved it,” Carmelita replied. “Besides, aren’t your stupid book houses open to everyone?”

“It’s called a library.” Ms. Caliban corrected. “And my library isn’t open to bullies like you.”

“But Ms. Caliban,” she said sweetly. “This library doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to Vice Principal Nero, and I don’t think he would like to hear that you’re keeping nice, adorable, students out for no good reason.”

“That statement is entirely false.” Ms. Caliban said. 

“Would you like to tell that to the Vice Princie?” she asked. “His office is right in the next building, I’m sure he’d love to be interrupted to talk about the  _ library, _ ” 

Ms. Caliban stiffened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Ms. Caliban squinted and stepped aside. 

“If you do anything other than reading then I’ll-”

“You’ll do what? Throw me out?”

“Yes.”

Carmelita tap danced into the library, frowning when she realized that the cheap carpet muffled her shoes.

“Stupid books,” she muttered.

Wandering through the shelves, she entered a section marked with the number 200.

Carmelita slid a book off the shelf, and after looking around for Ms. Caliban, placed it back, a few rows over from where it was originally.

“That ought to keep her busy,” she smiled as she displaced more books. 

Carmelita moved out of the 200’s and into deeper numbers, walking through the 400’s, then the five’s.

Where were those orphans?

Finally as she moved out of the 700’s, Carmelita spotted one a few shelves over. It was Isadora. Her throat tightened.

Carmelita turned around after a sharp tap on her shoulder. 

“What do you want, book lady?” she snarled quietly, trying not to alert Isadora of her presence.

Ms. Caliban placed her hands on her hips. 

“I don’t see you reading,” she said.

“Look,” Carmelita explained, “If you don’t want-”

Ms. Caliban interrupted her. “I don’t see you reading,” she repeated.

Carmelita grabbed a random book off the shelf and rolled her eyes. 

“Are you happy now? Will you leave me alone?”

Ms. Caliban smiled. “Yes.”

Carmelita sat down against a shelf, leaned over in a way that she could see Isadora through the shelves.

She looked at the book she had picked.  __ It was about dance. She liked dance.

Opening it up, Carmelita squinted and pulled it close to her eyes.

The pages were completely covered in tiny little words, blurred together beyond recognition. 

She snorted. Books were useless. She didn’t get how anyone could even try to read them. 

Flipping through it quickly, Carmelita noticed a picture of someone practicing ballet, but they were fuzzy around the edges and not very detailed.

Carmelita frowned. Cakesniffing photographers.

She looked back down, continuing to flip through for a few more minutes before getting a headache and giving up. She hated books. Almost as much as she hated orphans.

Resting the dance book on her lap, Carmelita looked over at Isadora.

She had a book lying open next to her, and was looking over at it as she wrote things down in that notebook of hers. 

She was always writing in that notebook. Writing, writing, writing.

She sometimes made this little face when she was writing. She would stare down at her notebook thoughtfully, looking up towards the ceiling as she tried to concentrate, the end of her pen tapping at the corner of her mouth. 

This was different, of course, from her thinking face, which was forceful and determined. She could always tell from across the room when Isadora had a good idea, pulling out her notebook in a rush and quickly jotting something down, not stopping for anything.

Once, in the cafeteria, Carmelita had seen her do that, putting down her cup in such a rush that water had spilled everywhere, even onto her uniform. But she hadn’t stopped to clean it up until after she had finished writing. 

Carmelita remembered what she had said to her as Isadora left the room, the other children screaming and chanting along with her. 

She took a deep breath and looked away.

Isadora Quagmire was an orphan. And she  _ hated _ orphans.

Carmelita turned back around and looked at Isadora again, her dark hair falling across her face as she took another glance over at the book on the ground beside her.

Isadora tucked her hair behind her ear and picked up her pen, furiously scribbling something in her little black notebook. 

It was the same face she had made when she spilled her water, determined and strong and beautiful. 

Carmelita looked away again, the dance book falling to the ground as she ran out of the library.

She hated orphans. She  _ hated  _ them. She hated orphans more than she hated books, or libraries, or anything.

So then why didn’t she hate her?


End file.
